


Doctor's Orders

by JocelynTorrent



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, I can't even with this title and this summary but it is what it is, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2016-07-23
Packaged: 2018-07-26 04:11:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7559590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JocelynTorrent/pseuds/JocelynTorrent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fareeha and Angela have sex. That's really it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Doctor's Orders

It's not subtle. The wings, the halo, the healing. Coupled with her fair hair and bright blue eyes, Angela Ziegler is every bit the angel she portrays on the battlefield. But gazing at her now, Fareeha has never seen Angela more worthy of worship. She lies on top of the army green sheets of Fareeha's bed, naked save for the laced underwear. Her clothes, stripped lovingly by Fareeha, lie in a folded pile on the floor. To avoid wrinkles, of course. That had earned her a snort of laughter and it was most assuredly worth it. Fareeha reaches out to push those pesky blonde bangs aside and is granted a kiss to her wrist with by softest lips she's ever encountered. Angela is pale and remarkably immaculate, as if sculpted from marble. The years have done her well, save for the growing wrinkles around her eyes when she smiles, and the touch, touch of white to her roots. She is beautiful. She is hers. And she is waiting.

Fareeha climbs into the bed with her waiting soon to be lover and does not move between her legs. Not so soon. She hovers by her hip, sitting on her knees, and drags the backs of her fingers down her stomach, over the marble plains of her torso that rise and fall from sturdy sleek muscle. Not like herself, swollen and stone, no. Angela is soft and sleek as she should be. She holds her breath when her knuckles dip into her navel and feel the muscle bunching up beneath the skin. She stops before she gets to her underwear and turns her hand over there, pushing it up and over her hip, traveling over her flexing obliques to curl around her shoulder. The difference in light and dark between their skin tones is something to marvel at but she wouldn't waste her precious time on that. Not when there is a literal angel beneath her, waiting for her to pleasure her. She leans down, dark hair brushing over Angela's lovely ivory skin, to kiss the point of her chin. "So wonderful." She moves her lush lips further but not up, moreover, across her jaw until she reaches her ear.

Angela can only respond to the compliment with wispy sigh, thighs tightening as Fareeha finds the spot by her ear that drives her wild. Her fingers traipse the expansive, muscled back of her lover, fingers digging when she feels that hot breath against her skin. Her throat itches with praise as well. Fareeha is long and defined, broad shoulders to carry the weight of her Raptora suit. Forearms swell with muscles earned from carrying canons and Angela leaves her back for a brief moment to trail her finger down the bulging vein in her wrist. She's a marvel of human anatomy, worthy of poetry and gods and stars, but Angela is a scientist. It's just as well that she can't speak, because words can't do Fareeha justice. Still, her lover seems to enjoy the restrained whimpers and gasps coming from Angela's pink lips. She feels Fareeha smile against her skin, a pleased hum low in her throat.

It's Angela's doing that bring Fareeha between her legs. She's not as tall as the soldier, but her legs are long, and Fareeha feels them parting beneath her before a swivel of Angela's hips brings them around her waist. Fareeha smiles at the boldness and makes to lower herself onto Angela when she's stopped by a shake of her head. Mind somewhat cleared now that Fareeha's sinful mouth has slowed, Angela exhales slowly and thumbs the hem of her bra. "I want to feel you," she coos, accent thick with emotion. She smiles, almost shyly, and Fareeha can't help but steal a kiss at that. Angela's lips are swollen and soft, tongue laced with the wine from dinner earlier. Fruity and heady, Fareeha delves deeper, tasting Angela's moans as her bra slackens from an expert twist. A brief moment apart to remove the garment and they're together again, breasts pushing together and stomachs brushing with every breath. Fareeha has returned to that long neck, blooming a trail of where she's been against that fair skin. Angela can do little more than writhe beneath her, legs locked at the ankles around her waist to keep her close and hips bucking against Fareeha's pelvis.

"Fareeha."

It's the only word she knows, the only word that rings clear from her mind, and she has to make an effort to push out the final, "Please."

Fareeha pulls away at that and runs her thumb along Angela's bottom lip. Angela is still rocking against her, the panties irritating simply because they restrict the closeness they both desire. Her hand trails downward, over a breast and across ribs where nails dig gently into a muscled thigh. Angela groans, a filthy sound from such a lovely woman and it makes Fareeha smile. "With such a sweet request," she begins, lowering herself to nip at Angela's lip, "how can I refuse?"

Angela sighs in relief, ankles unlocking to allow Fareeha to slide down her body. She trails kisses along the way, taking her time by teasing more blooming blemishes from her skin. Under her breast, across a rib, a matching pair on each hip. Each make Angela buck and whine in frustration, but that alone is tempting as the sound of the prodigal doctor coming undone beneath her lips sends a fresh rush up and down Fareeha's body. Finally, finally she reaches the underwear. Her fingers toy at the elastic, pulling it back just enough to have it snap back against Angela's hips. There is a noticeable wet spot, and Fareeha decides to make it bigger. She presses her mouth between Angela's legs and savors the wetness collected by the fabric. Angela's hands rest on her head, always gentle, but her hips buck harshly, desperate for more than what this teasing allows. But still, any touch is better than before. Fareeha allows Angela to grind against her mouth as she enjoys the taste of her lover. It's rare to see Angela as anything but quirky, kind, and efficient, and she takes no small amount of pleasure in watching the doctor rake her teeth over her lip and grip at her breast. Angela has a natural grace that is not lost during this moment. Her body ebbs and flows to the rhythm Fareeha provides, back lifting from the bed and heel running sweetly down her spine.

"Fareeha." Sharper this time, it piques the soldier's interest. She lifts her dark eyes to find Angela on her elbows, cheeks flushed and eyes burning. "Please."

There's a demand to her tone that Fareeha hasn't heard before, and she likes it. She pulls away from Angela with an exaggerated smack of her lips, hands running circles on the tops of her thighs. "But I haven't finished worshipping you yet," she quips.

Angela shakes her head, bangs falling back over her eye before she throws them back with a flip of her head. The corner of her mouth upturns, cocky almost, if not downright arrogant, and Fareeha swallows at the sight. "If it's worship you want," she lifts her hips to brush her mound against Fareeha's chin, "then give me what I ask."

Fareeha merely raises an eyebrow in response. But it doesn't seem prudent to argue. So she slides the panties off and discards them to the floor, not bothering with folding since Angela likely won't wear them in their current state. She'd wanted to leave more blossoms on her thighs, to work Angela into an incoherent frenzy before she'd even started. But as she gazes between Angela's legs at the well-groomed hair, glistening with desire, all wants are thrown to the wind with the exception of one.

In a swift, practiced motion, she parts Angela and slides her tongue from bottom to top, making sure to catch the tip on her clit. Angela's back arches off the bed, a choppy moan falling from her mouth. Fareeha sees her legs lifting on either side of her head, feet flat against the bed to give her more leverage as she rocks against her tongue. Fareeha moans softly against her, aroused by the lewd sounds spilling from such perfect parted lips. Angela claws gently at Fareeha's scalp, and sits up a bit to run her thumb along the udjat against her eye.

She's too far gone to speak clearly, but Fareeha can read everything she needs to in those eyes. The gratitude, affection, lust, and love. She smiles against Angela and when she feels Angela bucking faster, seeking her release, she slides a hand between her legs. Two fingers gently circle her entrance, swollen and wet, and upon receiving no protest, she slides them in easily. Angela's toes curl, head dropping back and eyes thrown to the ceiling as she savors the pressure of Fareeha inside of her. Fareeha curls slowly and drags her fingers out before pushing them in and repeating. The pace is slow despite Angela's quickly thrusting hips. Fareeha resists Angela's impatience and lays her free arm over her hips, slowing them so she can build as she likes.

In the end, if she were thinking clearly, Angela would have thanked her. As it stands, she can only writhe and gasp and groan as her orgasm built inside of her. When she finally reaches the precipice, not even the soldier's muscled arm can slow her pace. She cries out, the sound punctured by quick, sharp thrusts of her hips. Fareeha relents then, and Angela's orgasm pulses through her. Her fingers and toes tingle, mind hazed and euphoric as her body expels its pent up energy. Fareeha holds her gaze the entire time, and Angela knows that only makes it better.

She doesn't know how long it lasts, but Fareeha is panting by the time she collapses back onto the bed. She feels the slide of wet lips against her thigh and hums, because even that is still sensitive to her overblown nerves. With a lazy curl of her fingers she beckons the soldier upward. Fareeha obeys, sliding over Angela's body and resting on top of her. She kisses the love marks forming along her neck sweetly and waits until the doctor can find her words again. When she does, it's a soft, "Thank you," thickened by lust. Fareeha nods and kisses the tip of her nose.

"You're welcome. But don't think I'm done with you yet."


End file.
